What Shall Be…

And what shall become of me…

I never wished for you to see.

My ends too gruesome for one so young,

a pure, tender spirit…my sweetest dove.

I shan’t pollute something so new…

Now kiss me softly, lovely dear;

for I have held your soul so near.

In death I won’t let you be dismayed;

you’re not to watch me fade away.

Parents sweet and lovers dear

are not to watch these fearful tears.

These fits of pain which often tear

is not a burden you’re to bear.

This is my challenge, this is my

strife; it is I who holds the knife.

Is my fate and cruel demise,

a harsh reminder of how time

flies? A lesson that we ne’er

hold near all the ones we love

so dear?

And what shall become of me…

I never wished for you to see.

My ends too gruesome for one so young,

a pure, tender spirit…my sweetest dove.

I shan’t pollute something so new…

Now kiss me softly, lovely dear;

for I have held your soul so near.

In death I won’t let you be dismayed;

you’re not to watch me fade away.


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